Poetry By Ken in Rainbow Colors

It's a deadly place forsaken by most
Except for blood thirsty ghost,
Their boneyard everyone knows
Is where the apple-tree grows.

Ugly monsters to many to number
Arise from an uneasy slumber
To drag you into their dank holes,
The graves of those restless souls.

It's that time as autumn arrives
When only the fortunate survives,
When wicked witches begin to rove,
Stay well clear of Appleseed Grove.

When murders' moon rises to high
And gnarled branches silhouette sky,
Caustic aromas of the dead most sour
Signs the perilous witching hour.

Hobgoblins flitting silently surround
As fingers of fog drift low to ground,
Anguished howls shatter the quiet,
Werewolves are roaming this night.

The pained moans of a tortured soul
Hanged by the neck generations ago
Appears as a zombie to stalk the night
Filling the living with deadly fright.

Evil cruelties are done by the dead
Acts of mayhem the brave dread,
Moving jack-o'-lanterns evilly sneer
And witch screams freeze with fear.

You cannot hide a fright filled head
Ruing the night you left your bed,
Forewarned and foretold you strove
To visit the dead in Appleseed Grove.

©Written by: Kenneth J. Ellison 09-26-11

Song title: "Ghostly Haunting"

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